


Sunsets

by danceswithgary



Category: Smallville
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Podfic, Podfic Available, Reconciliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-15
Updated: 2007-06-15
Packaged: 2017-10-03 23:41:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithgary/pseuds/danceswithgary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like snowflakes, each is unique.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sunsets

**Author's Note:**

> Podfic at: <http://www.audiofic.jinjurly.com/sunsets>

He arrived between one blink and the next.

It wasn't really a surprise. He'd stopped being anything but predictable years ago. I'd actually expected him days earlier, but perhaps that was too much arrogance on my part, thinking my absence would have any significance.

He stood at the edge of the water and looked out, never back. Only the calls of the birds and frothing of the waves disturbed the silence as the brilliant colors faded into night.

He left between one blink and the next.

 

. . .

 

Tonight was shades of pink instead of yesterday's russet.

The suit was nowhere in sight. It was a concession I appreciated. Those colors had offended me for years and it would have been a shame to let them spoil the view. The plaid was a marginally acceptable substitute, the jeans even more welcome. His hair was a little longer than I remember, but it's been a while since I saw it free from the confines of the disguise. The fading light glossed the tips of his curls and I wondered about his eyes.

 

. . .

 

A week and he hasn't missed one yet. He arrives, watches, leaves. The days are beginning to shorten and there's a slight chill in the air, but of course, that wouldn't matter to him.

The deep purple underlying the reds tonight was spectacular. It's oddly satisfying sitting here watching, knowing each is infinitely different in a world filled with the mundane and repetitious. He and I, we're unique, also. That's always been reassuring, even at our worst moments.

 

. . .

 

I ignored the crunch of the sand, keeping my eyes on the horizon. If he'd wished, he could have approached silently, never disturbing a single grain. I suppose he felt the noise a courtesy, a warning. He stood there, a silent presence next to my blanket, while I enjoyed my nightly display. I declined the chance at a closer look, and I thought I heard a sigh, but I may have been mistaken. He left with the last ribbon of magenta.

 

. . .

 

I suspected that even he might get tired of standing, so shifting over far enough to let him sit on the blanket was simply the polite thing to do. He was careful not to get any sand on it, the grace he'd acquired over the years coming in handy as his long legs telescoped downwards. I hadn't thought he'd output so much heat that I'd feel it with a foot between us, but once there, the extra warmth was welcome. He stayed long enough for the first star to appear.

 

. . .

 

Rain was to be expected, even here. The soft knock on the door was just as inevitable. Sighing, I opened it to find him standing there in the dusk, dripping curls and damp eyelashes taking me back to a riverbank. I stood back to let him enter and handed him the towel I'd known he'd need. I wasn't expecting the grin he flashed as he took it and something inside me stirred, long dormant.

He followed me into the small kitchen area and watched as I filled two mugs with the coffee I'd just brewed. Without thinking, I left mine black and I added cream and sugar to his, just as I'd seen him do so many times before. I could feel the flush in my cheeks when I realized what I'd done and the look in his eyes was everything I'd hoped for, back then. My hand trembled as I nudged the mug toward him and I winced when it bent a little too far. Nodding his thanks, he raised the mug to his lips and sipped, eyes crinkling in pleasure.

 

. . .

 

"I miss us."

"There hasn't been an 'us' for too many years to count. Not since I left Smallville."

"I still miss it. I always did, even after you put that damn ring on. I wish..."

"Don't."

 

. . .

 

Holding my hand like a precious gift, he raised it to his lips, and I captured the kiss in my palm. One word, the answer a single syllable, and it was enough.

 

. . .

 

Of course, even with the hospital bed facing west, they're not the same. He's promised that as soon as the doctors release me from their sterile prison, we'll go back. I can be patient.

They're not going anywhere.

Neither am I.


End file.
